Ludwig's Journal
by xxkunoichi159xx
Summary: This is the partner story to Kiku's Journal. You should probably read Kiku's first...  Anyway... this is Ludwig's side of the story  :3
1. May 31st

This journal will be for my eyes only. A simple reminder of my thoughts, my feelings, so that I may go back someday and remember what I was thinking. So that I may remember my secrets and my fears.

This journal is for myself and myself alone so that I may never forget nights like the one I just had, holding the man that I care about so much closely to me.

Last night, Kiku and I made love for the 5th time. I couldn't stop myself from touching his beautiful skin, soft and a little pale. I keep track of the times that we are together, the number of times that we've spent nights like this, simply because I cannot stop myself from wanting to remember. I want to remember every moment that I am with him.

The only thing that bothers me is this...

Every morning that I wake up, I expect to see his small body lying beside mine. I expect to be able to hold him in my arms again, but he's never there. He leaves while I am asleep, taking his clothes and such with him. I can't comprehend his reasoning for this. Is he too shy to wake up beside me? Is he afraid that if he stays, I will say something that he doesn't want to hear? Or maybe he's unsure of what he would say to me when he woke up.

There is only one other explanation that I can think of... but it hurts me to think this way. After everything that he and I have been through together, both with and without Feliciano. I don't want to think about the possibility that he doesn't feel the same way about me that I do about him.

He's never said that one word that I want him to say... of course, I've never said the three that it would take to say the same thing in /my/ language, and it is possible that this is why he has never said that one, simple, word.

I suppose that tonight... tonight I will tell him how I feel. And I will hope that he says it back. Because a one sided love could only cause us both pain, and I never want to hurt this boy that I care so much about, because if he is hurt, then so am I. I can't be happy knowing that he is not.

I want to touch him again. I want him here right now.

I am sitting beside Feliciano on one of the two couches in my living room. He is watching an Italian movie on my rather large television. He asked me to watch it with him, but I am "doing work", as I told him. But this is what I am doing instead. I should be working, I should be typing up more important things, but right now, Kiku is what is most important to me, and I can't stop thinking about him.

His dark eyes, his soft hair and skin, the way he smiles...

And his imperfections. I love those best. The way he covers his mouth with his hand when he giggles, the way he tries to speak other languages and just can't seem to pronounce things right. It's the most adorable thing in the world when he tries to speak German. I can't help but smile and chuckle and want to hold him close. He worries about everything and gets flustered easily, but I love even that about him. I love tracing his scars with my fingertips, they remind me that he isn't as fragile as he looks. Many wars and battles and hardships, but he's still such a kind, gentle, man.

World War II had hurt us all, Kiku, Feliciano, and myself included. We had helped each other the best that we could manage after the end of the war, but it was hardest to help Kiku. He always seemed so far away. And he always seemed so determined to do everything by himself, even though his health is not the best right now, especially after Alfred's bombings. I'm worried that him dealing with all of these things alone may cause him more unneeded stress, and I want to be there for him to help him deal with it. Because when somebody becomes too stressed, they may do things that they later regret. They may do something stupid. And I don't want to see Kiku get hurt over something ridiculous.

I look over at Feliciano, but I don't really see him. Rather, I see through him, as though he's not really there. Yes, Feliciano is my friend and I do like him, but at this moment, I can think of nothing more than the small Japanese man that I love to hold again. And I know that I /will/ hold him again... tonight, underneath the covers as I whisper my confession to him, because I want him to know.

If you couldn't tell by my rambling already, I am completely in love with him, all I need now is to know that he loves me too.


	2. May 31st Later That Afternoon

Feliciano and I spent most of the afternoon on the beach together. Kiku didn't come with us, I'm not really sure why.

I wish he had.

It was fun to spend time with Feliciano, but... I would have had more fun if Kiku had been there with us. Just his smiling face is enough to make me happy. His laugh, enough to die for. And I can't honestly say that I've ever felt this way about anyone before I met him.

That's why we started with this secret relationship so long ago...

So, I watched Feliciano play in the water, finding seashells and tripping like he always does. But as I watched him, all I could imagine was Kiku. The way he would look playing out there with Feliciano.

It was enough to make me smile for a moment.

I will take him there someday. Just he and I. We'll walk in the sand and hold hands as the water washes up and down the shore line ever so gently, the tide coming in as the sun starts to set.

I think he'd like that. I think he'd like that a lot.

And I would do anything for him. I would do anything to see that wonderful smile, even if I have to take his hands from his face so I can see it. Always trying to cover that cute smile with those small hands. All I want is to know that he is happy.

Although, lately...

He hasn't seemed as happy as I thought he should be.

But, he will be here with me tonight, and I will finally tell him how I've been feeling. I will finally tell him all the things that I've wanted to tell him for so long.

I want to make love to him, gentle and sweet, then I want to hold him in my arms, our warm bodies melting together as we cuddle. And then, I will whisper to him...

"Ich liebe dich."

And I hope that he will cry happily. I hope that he'll smile and say it back to me with so much emotion that I will cry with him. I'll kiss his forehead, his eyes, his soft lips and delicate skin.

It will be the most wonderful night.

And although I'm not the best at being romantic, I will try /just/ for him. I will try to treat him the way that I know he deserves to be treated; with respect and care, with love and tenderness. Because this boy is as delicate as paper. As fragile as glass or porcelain. Yet at the same time, he is strong.

I'll lie on the couch, impatiently awaiting his arrival. I'm already glancing at the time on the clock, again and again, hoping that maybe it will go by faster.


	3. June 1st

Last night, things did not go as smoothly as I had wished they would. I'm calling Kiku again and again, hoping that maybe he will answer.

I told him I loved him, but he never said it back. He never said that one word that I had been longing to hear. Instead, he had lied on his side, refusing to look at me.

I had asked him what was wrong. I had asked why he wouldn't look at me. But he never answered. He stayed silent as I held him, my arms wrapped around him from behind. Then, I heard it. I felt it.

His sobs. I could hear the way that he was breathing, the way that his tears fell against the pillow. I could feel the small shakes that came with it.

Maybe I was too rough? Despite the fact that I had wanted to be gentle, I think I had been a little too rough...

I wanted him to talk to me. To tell me what was wrong. I hate knowing that this boy is upset, especially if he's upset enough to cry...

So, I did all that I could think to do.

I asked why he was crying. I wanted to know. I wanted him to trust me enough to tell me what was wrong.

Instead, he pushed me away. He stood up from the bed, staying silent besides the quiet sound of his uneven breathing, his small sobs and the tears that hit the floor almost melodically. It was dark and I couldn't see what he was doing, but I followed him around the room, trying to tell him to stay. I was speaking quietly, Gilbert was in the basement and I didn't want to wake him up. I was trying not to show my emotions. I didn't want Kiku to know that I was almost in tears. The fact that he was leaving me after I finally gained enough courage to tell him that I loved him, well, that was enough to make me want to die.

I grabbed his wrist, trying not to hold too tightly, but I couldn't tell if I was being gentle or not.

"P-Please... Please let me go." He whimpered and I almost lost all control of myself. I thought for sure that I would cry. But I soon regained enough of my composure to speak.

I begged him one last time to stay.

"No. Please stay..."

"I can't stay." His voice sounded almost emotionless at this point... but it sounded more like he was forcing down something... it... it sounded like sorrow. Like sadness.

Why was he so sad? How did I hurt him?

I don't know what he did after he pulled his wrist from my grasp and left.

I moved from by the door to sitting on the bed. I put my head in my hands, almost sobbing, unsure of what to think.

My head hurt. My heart was pounding. I felt like I would collapse onto the floor and die.

I couldn't understand why he didn't say it back...

The only possibility was that he didn't love me. I know that this isn't something that I would normally talk about out loud... but, it hurt.

After a while of just thinking, just crying.

Then I realized that I was only wearing my boxers. Nothing more. I looked down at the floor, planning on putting my clothes back on. Then I realized that Kiku's shirt was still there and mine was gone.

He must have grabbed my shirt in the confusion of the dark.

I didn't bother finding another shirt or putting on my pants, instead, I picked up Kiku's shirt, too small to fit my larger frame, and I held it close. I cuddled childishly with the shirt that held his scent. And I grabbed the phone, calling him again and again and again, as many times as I could. I didn't give up. I wouldn't.

I'm holding his shirt, even now, calling him without stopping.

I feel childish, selfish. But I'm waiting for him to answer. And I won't stop until the moment that I've given up all hope. I will leave message after message, asking, /begging/ him to return my calls, to answer the phone, to just let me hear his voice.

But, if he doesn't answer, I'll wait for him. He has to see me eventually...


End file.
